Of Spiked KoolAid and Party Games
by snoozin81
Summary: Santana throws Puck a party for his fifteenth birthday.


Santana throws him a party for his fifteenth birthday. It's supposed to be a surprise but Finn's never been any good at keeping secrets. He lets it slip during football tryouts when Puck tackles him to the ground and threatens to tell everyone that he still wets the bed. It's small, just a handful of their closest friends. Santana's parents are upstairs and Mr. Lopez confiscates the case of Natty Light he'd swiped from the Seven-Eleven but he's still got a flask tucked into the waistband of his jeans and there's cake so it's a total win-win.

She's standing on the fringe of the well wishers, arms crossed over her chest, smug look twisting the corner of her lips up. He knows that look, remembers it vividly from last Friday night when they had gone to the movies together and she'd let him kiss her afterwards. There'd been tongue involved.

"Don't say I never give you anything," she finally says, when he's made it past their friends.

"What, you mean besides the crabs?"

"You wish Puckerman." She punches him hard on the shoulder for emphasis and it would kind of hurt if she wasn't such a total girl. "Oh, and by the way," she adds, "I wouldn't drink the Kool-Aid if I were you."

"Arsenic?" he asks, with a quirk of his brow.

"No. Brittany."

"She get her flower and her sugar mixed up again?" Santana nods and Puck can't help but chuckle. "She didn't make the cake did she?'

"No, that's safe. Store bought. You can thank Quinn."

He steps closer, hand settling on Santana's hip, voice lowering to a seductive whisper. "What about you, Mama?" he asks. "Did you buy me a present?"

"I threw you a party asshole," she scoffs, smacking his hand away. "Now shut up and socialize."

**-0-0-**

"Puuuck," Brittany sing-songs his name as she bounces up to him and throws her arms around his neck. "Have you tried my Kool-Aid? I made it just for you."

"For me?" he asks, hesitantly taking the cup she offers him.

She nods, a wide smile splitting across her face and fuck he doesn't want to hurt her feelings but he can still taste the cookies she made him when his father walked out. The girl should not be allowed in a kitchen, like ever.

He lifts the cup to his lips and lets the tiniest bit slip past his teeth, it sets his taste buds on fire and he has to fight really hard not to spit the shit out. "Mmm…" he forces out, handing her the cup back. She chugs the remaining red liquid before giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"Happy birthday," she adds, before flouncing away.

When she's a safe distance away and sufficiently distracted by Matt he reaches underneath his shirt and pulls out the flask. He takes a quick pull of the vodka he'd snuck from the Anderson's liquor cabinet the last time he cleaned their pool, it washes away the aftertaste of the Kool-Aid and leaves a glowing warmth in the pit of his stomach.

**-0-0-**

He's pouring a Kool-Aid vodka cocktail, heavy on the vodka, when Finn wonders up and claps him on the back. "Have you seen Quinn?" he asks, gazing across the room fondly at the blonde girl. "She looks so pretty today."

Puck rolls his eyes and chugs down half of his concoction. "Dude, you said that yesterday and the day before. What happened to your balls?"

"Do you think she likes me? I mean she let me copy her English notes last week and she's still making me spirit boxes even though basketball season is over."

"How the fuck would I know? Chick's not exactly my number one fan."

"With good reason, you told the entire school, over the loud speaker, that she was…you know, having lady issues."

"Raging, dude. Chick was totally in the red. Why else would she turn down a date with the Puck-Stud?"

Finn laughs, "Because you're a total douchebag."

"Easy bro, I know your deepest, darkest secrets and I'm not afraid to use them against you."

The laughing stops and the smile on Finn's face slips away as he finally takes his eyes off Quinn long enough to look at Puck. He swallows roughly and nods when he sees that his friend is serious and then he quickly turns back to Quinn.

**-0-0-**

Mike suggests they play Truth or Dare, only, it's boring as fuck and Puck loses interest within the first five minutes. He's seen Brittany and Santana kiss before and while it's hot, it's not exactly mind blowing; Finn licking Matt's foot was a lot more than disturbing.

"This is lame," he cries, throwing his hands up in boredom.

"What would you prefer?" Quinn asks condescendingly, "Strip poker?"

"It would beat the shit out of this crap. Finn's fucking afraid to pick truth because then he'd have to tell you about the boner he gets every time you walk by, and dumb and dumber over there," he motions towards Mike and Matt before continuing, "are afraid to pick dare because they might actually have to kiss a dude and admit they like it."

He ignores the looks from his boys in favor of winning the stare off with Quinn. Her nostrils flare in disgust as she squares her shoulders, eyes boring into his. "Fine, you want to add a little more spice to this game then I dare you to spend seven minutes in Heaven with Brittany."

He knows this is going to land him in hot water, he can feel Santana shift beside him, can sense the irritation coming off her in waves, but he's not about to back down, not to Quinn.

"But I don't want to die," Brittany whines, and he can see tears brimming on her lashes.

"You're not going to die," Santana explains softly, before turning to Quinn and adding through gritted teeth, "but Quinn might."

"It's just a game," Quinn adds, with a satisfied smile. "You spend seven minutes in a closet, with Puck."

Puck pushes himself up off the floor and holds out a hand to Brittany. When she takes it, he pulls her up and leans in, whispering in her ear, "Usually making out."

**-0-0-**

The closet is cramped but he doesn't really care because he can feel Britt's breath on his ear. She's right in front of him, her body heat mixing with his and sucking all the air out of the room. He reaches out with both hands and guides her closer. Their legs tangle and they stumble but he catches them by bracing his hand against the firm wood of the closet door.

Her fingers curl into the cotton of his shirt as he leans into her and searches out her lips in the dark. Her mouth opens beneath his and her tongue traces the curve of his lip. She tastes like fucked up Kool-Aid and he thinks maybe sand.

She's gotten fucking hot over the last year, tall, leggy, blonde. Cheerleading has done wonders to rid her of the baby fat, transferring it into hard muscle and tight abs. She hasn't gotten boobs yet but he's pretty sure she'll let him get to second base anyway.

He glides his thumbs across the smooth skin that's peeking out between the hem of her shirt and the waistband of her khaki shorts. She giggles, curving into him, forehead resting on his shoulder. "That tickles," she sighs dreamily.

His hands slide further up underneath her shirt, fingers raking over ribs until he can feel the cotton of her training bra. She doesn't try stopping him, in fact, she's fucking encouraging him by letting her lips skim along the sensitive skin just beneath his jaw. He's so close, just a couple more inches and…

The door to the closet swings open and they both tumble out and onto the floor at the feet of their friends. He quickly pulls his hand out from underneath Brittany's shirt and pushes himself up onto his feet before helping her to hers. Out of the corner of his eye he spots Santana, eyes narrowed into evil little slits that are directed right at him.

"That was fun," Brittany gushes, a huge smile lighting up her face. "Can we play it again?"

**-0-0-**

He loses his virginity to Santana that night and vice-a-versa. In the awkward aftermath she lays down some ground rules.

"If you want this to happen again," she says, glancing back at him from over her shoulder, "then Brittany is off limits…for you."

He is not entirely sure what that means but he nods anyway because he had just gotten laid and truth be told he'd probably agree to just about anything. He'll learn a few years later that while Brittany was off limits to him she wasn't necessarily off limits to Santana.


End file.
